Perdonare e dimenticare
by The-Goldstein-Sharpshooter
Summary: Based on CotN. A young florist in Rome wanted by the Mafia. A small boy in Berlin targetted by neoNazis. A criminal organization on the rise. The battle for the future sparked by sins from the past. Perdóname. T for death violence implied rape & swearing.
1. Chapter 1: We all have bad days

_And I start yet another fanfic. I really have too many ideas for my own good...this fic is based on The-Charcoal-Alchemist's fanfic, "Children of the Nations", which asks a simple question._

"_What if the Nations could have children?"_

_While this fic is somewhat based on Children of the Nations, and follows a somewhat similar plot, the OCs are different, and the main focus of the story will be on Lovino. _

_Note, unless stated, most of the Nations and their respective children will be speaking their mother tongue, although I might write it out in English. If they're conversing with other Nations, they speak English. Eg, Lovino will speak Italian when talking to his brother and other Italians, but he'll speak English to Spain and Germany._

_Again, I don't own Hetalia. Sorry for the crappy quality of the languages used, I'm using Google translator._

_Enjoy the fic._

* * *

**Perdonare e dimenticare**

* * *

**Chapter 1: We all have bad days.**

_The file was in the middle of the table, a glaring bright yellow surrounded by metallic silver. A black gloved hand reached forward and flipped through reports almost soundlessly for a few minutes, before placing the folder back on the cold metal surface. The other figure, partly hidden by the shadows, laced his fingers together as he addressed his companion._

"_Sai cosa devi fare." ("You know what you have to do.")_

"_Sì." ("Yes.")_

"_Ci riuscirete?" ("Will you succeed?")_

"_Sì." ("Yes.")_

"_Vi deluderà?" ("Will you dissapoint?")_

"_No." ("No.")_

"_Bene. Io le disposizioni necessarie. Non mancare a me."__ ("Good. I will make the necessary arrangements. Do not fail me.") _

_The black clothed figure stood up and saluted._

"_Viva il Famiglia."("Long live the Family.")_

* * *

Lovino Vargas kicked a can. Hard.

"Damn it!"

The tin can flew across the pavement while curious on-lookers glanced at the angry Italian, some a bit miffed at his loud and rude behaviour. It was a sunny Saturday morning, and most people were enjoying their morning expresso at the cafes. All except one unhappy young man.

With his hands in his jean pockets and his eyes boring into the ground, Lovino stomped down the avenue, a growl clearly etched on his face. His golden eyes flashed dangerously as he walked right through a busy road, ignoring the angry yells and indignant honks of the cars.

"Stupid Feli and that fucking macho potato bastard! What are they, married or something!"

It was not a good day for Lovino. In the morning, he got his wakeup call from the ten SMSes sent from the Mafiaso in Sicily, all involving some unsavoury trade or another. Then his coffee machine broke. He was still sniffling from the previous economic disaster. And just thirty minutes ago, his younger brother had just called to inform him that he couldn't make it for their lunch appointment.

"I'm sorry _fratello_, but I promised Ludwig that I'd meet up with him today, but only that I forgot, and if I don't go he'll get real mad at me, and he'll chase me around Berlin, and force me to do push-ups, and take away my gelato, and..."

Lovino refused to listen any further. He spent ten minutes screaming obscenities at Feliciano before he threw his mobile on the ground. And now, he had to go get a new phone, his younger brother would probably spend the night at Germany's (he always did that when they got into arguments) and Lovino would have to go to lunch AND dinner on his own. Again. The worse thing was that he couldn't even call Spain to join him, because the tomato bastard was still down with that damn flu that he caught from Portugal, Greece and Ireland.

Angrily, Lovino threw himself out on the bench in the park and glared at the canoodling couple nearby. They didn't need telling twice. Quickly, the two of them left the area. Apart from the birds in the sky, and the nearby alley cat, South Italy found himself alone.

Alone.

His anger slightly spent, he sighed and ran his fingers through his fringe, trying to ignore the growing stinging sensation in his eyes.

"Stupid _fratello_. Can't you pick me for once?" he muttered. He clenched his right hand tight.

"Damn it..."

Suddenly, a scream shot through the air, startling Lovino out of his melancholy. The birds shot away into the sky, and the cat quickly leapt over the wall and away.

"Someone help me!"

* * *

Reaching for a tissue paper, Antonio moaned as yet another ache threatened to split his head in half.

"_Dios mio_, what a flu..." he mumbled. He blew his nose and threw the used tissue into the growing pile where his waste paper basket was supposed to be, buried under all the trash. Slumping against the pillow, he looked weakly at the calendar on the desk by his bedside. A year since the Euro zone sovereign debt crisis had started, and a month since he too, had contracted the deadly economic disease. True, Greece, Ireland and Portugal had it worse. Last he heard, all three were battling not only the flu, but fever and indigestion as well. At least he didn't have to sneeze and burn on the "royal throne".

And, on the brighter side, at least the two Italys were doing ok as well.

Immediately, Antonio smiled as he thought of the two Italian brothers. Due to some timely intervention by Germany, the Italians had managed to escape the worst of the crisis. True, GDP growth levels were low, but they weren't negative, and what with the German government buying bonds from Italy, it looked like they were on the track to recovery. When Romano last came to visit him two days ago he had looked a bit pale, but he was still his loud, rude, energetic and absolutely cute self. Spain had made sure that he took home a crate of his home-grown tomatoes to share with his brother.

"After all, tomatoes are good for the body, right? We can't have my precious little Romano with a red nose can we?"

"Sh-SHUT UP! CHIGI!"

Antonio laughed at the memory, before a fresh outburst of coughs assailed him again. As he hacked and coughed, he wondered whether the current bad state he was in had already hit it's worse, as his boss had repeatedly told him, or rather things could take another plunge. The coughs finally subsided, and he took a deep breath.

"More punishment for my sins, Santa Maria?"

His eyes wandered over to the portrait of the lady in white, with her hands outstretched. The smile on her face was one that promised peace and joy to those who believed and repented. That their sins could be forgotten, if they only confessed.

"_Quemar a la bruja!__!" _

Antonio closed his eyes with regret.

No, forgiveness was not for him.

* * *

A small boy sat near the window side, his sky-blue eyes fixed outwards. Under his right arm was an art block and clutched in his left hand was his pencil box. His simple white T-shirt and plain blue shorts were spotless and uncrumpled, while his blonde hair was combed back neatly. He was all ready to go out. Actually, he should have been out by now. But all around him the other children were just putting on their play clothes, talking and wasting time. Some of them hadn't even made their beds yet.

Max narrowed his eyes with annoyance and his hand clutched the blue pencil box even tighter. They were already three minutes late.

"_Idioten_," he growled.

* * *

_Please read and comment on the chapter. "__Perdonare e dimenticar" means "Forgive and Forget" in Italian. __The Spanish words "__Quemar a la bruja__" translates to "Burn the witch". And I'm guessing everyone probably knows who Max is by now._

_BTW, my other fics will probably get an update by the end of this month, in case anyone's wondering. No, I haven't given up on them, just that I've been really lazy, so feel free to throw some of Lovi's tomatoes at me. I deserve it._


	2. Chapter 2: Just around the corner

_Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia._

* * *

**Chapter 2: Just around the corner.**

"_Italien_, _achten_!"

"Ve, _che__ ho fame_!"

Ludwig face palmned, his patience stretched to a thin thread.

"We'll eat after this, and yes," he quickly added in response to his friend's waving hand in the air, "we are having pasta, but it is important that we get this business done and over with first, understand!"

With a sad look on his face, North Italy slumped and nodded despondently, before returning to his economic reports. Ludwig cleared his throat and picked up his friend's financial statements.

"Now, as of today your unemployment rate has decreased from the disgusting rate of 8.4% two years ago back to a safer rate of 6.7%. However, this is still no excuse, considering how much financial aid you are getting from the EU, namely me! Your inflation rates are starting to pick up as well, I thought I told you to increase your interest rates last week, and your economic growth is starting to slow down yet again, what did I say about investors Italien! I can't keep buying bonds from you and your brother, one day you're going to have to pay me back and-"

A loud growling noise punctuated through the room.

"_LUDOVICO_..."

Ludwig sighed as his friend whined yet again. "Alright, I suppose we can adjourn for lunch now..." As North Italy cheered and started going on and on about what pasta he was going to eat for lunch ("Ve, Germany, let's go for carbonara today! Or maybe we should go for alfredo? How about ravioli instead, cause we had spaghetti yesterday! Should we also have garlic bread? And some meatballs?"), Germany just collected all the documents on the table and neatly sorted them out.

"Listen Italien, this is just a lunch break. It doesn't mean that our work is done," lectured Germany as they exited the room. "We still have to discuss what measures your government is taking to counter the effects of the sovereign debt crisis, and..."

"Ve, Germany look! It's a pretty butterfly! Flutter flutter flutter..."

"Hey, are you listening to me! _Italien_, come back here!"

"Flutter flutter flutter!"

Ludwig stared hopelessly at North Italy as he chased after the blue and gold butterfly. "Why do I even bother..." he thought exasperatedly. "I swear he has nothing else but pasta and pizza on his brain! I've known him nearly 150 years, and he's still the same food-loving, cowardly fool that hid in the tomato box!"

But then again, it was this food-loving, cowardly fool who had stuck with him through thick and thin. Even if all North Italy did was to make him pasta and hug him, it still helped Germany to know that someone out there cared about him that much.

A slight smile crossed his face. "Perhaps I am being too harsh on him?" he mused. "He is a good companion, and he's loyal. Maybe I should just be grateful for him-"

Before he could finish that thought, a shrill scream smacked him out of his brooding. Looking up, his eyes bulged in shock at the scene.

"Germany, the squirrel's trying to eat me, _AIUTATEMI_!"

"Italien look out! You're going to-"

SLAM.

"Or maybe...I should up his training a little more..." Germany sighed, as North Italy crumpled against the tree he had ran into. He walked over to help the panicking Italian, but a pair of beady eyes emerged from the bushes, freezing him on the spot.

"_Mein Gott_, that IS a giant squirrel!"

"_LUDOVICO_ HELP!"

* * *

Max did not like the other children. He especially disliked the other boys in the orphanage. Actually, he just didn't like people in general.

Sitting in the corner of the playground, he watched gloomily as the boys chased each other around the park, screaming with glee. The girls preferred less rough activities, like the sand pit and the swings, but they were equally as loud as their male counterparts, chattering about stupid girl things like dresses and dolls.

Max hated each and every one of them.

Quietly, he returned back to his drawing. He wasn't very good at art, but he was trying. Today, he had decided to try and draw the blue flower that he liked very much in the park again. With his colour pencils at his side, he continued to sketch out the plant, determined that today, today would be the day that he finally managed to do it.

Sitting on the grass, he worked carefully. Max didn't like it if anything he did didn't look perfect. Sister Marie had tried to explain to him that it was ok if the line was crooked, or if there was a tiny smudge on his shirt. But Max just couldn't stand it. Maybe that was why he couldn't stand the other children, with their messy hair and grubby hands, and their food fights at the dining hall.

As the blue colour pencil traced slowly over the paper, his sky blue eyes were locked in concentration. He was barely breathing himself. The flower was starting to appear on his art block. Bit by bit. He was getting excited, but he reminded himself that he needed to focus or he would lose it. Gently, he sketched out the next petal...

SLAM!

One of the other boys, caught up in his game of tag, hadn't been looking carefully. Glancing backwards, he had been teasing his friend to try and catch up when he ran right into the sitting Max.

Max fell forward and banged his head on the ground. For a moment, all he saw was stars, and the blinding pain in his head. Before he could open his eyes, he screamed as the other boy, trying to regain his balance, accidentally stepped on his right hand hard. Immediately he lashed out with a kick that caught the other boy squarely in the stomach. Max rolled away and grabbed his right hand with his left, holding it close to his chest. He gasped at the ache on his head and his hand, but his heart stopped when he saw his drawing.

It was ruined.

The paper had been stepped on, with the pretty blue flower in the middle marred by an ugly shoe print made by mud.

Before he could do anything else though, the other boy had started wailing, attracting the attention of his playmates. It wasn't long before Max found himself surrounded by ten angry boys.

"What did you do Max?" one of them yelled accusingly.

"Nothing," he muttered sullenly. He tried to get up, but one of the other boys roughly pushed him down.

"You hit Hans, didn't you!"

Max gripped the wrist attached to his injured hand harder and growled at the accusation. "He was stupid enough to run into me first. Now leave me alone!"

SMACK.

His head snapped to the side as one of the boys punched him in the face.

"Jerk! We saw you! You kicked him in the gut!"

"So what if I did! He should've looked first! Now get away from me!" he snarled back, eyes flashing. Immediately, some of the younger boys took a few steps back warily. One of them took a step back too far, and crushed paper under his shoe.

"Eh, what's this?"

Max's eyes widened. "Don't touch my drawing!" he yelled. He tried to reach for it, injured hand or not, but one of his orphan mates held him down, while the others crowded around the crumpled artwork.

"Hey, it's a flower!"

"Max was drawing a flower?"

"That's so lame and girly!"

"He's gonna get cooties, ewww..."

"That's sick!"

"Gross!"

Rage was starting to build up in his heart now. Max tried to shut out their comments and tried to get on his feet again, but the boy holding him up was two years his senior and had him pinned down firmly. He scrambled for something, anything to get rid of his captor, and his hand grasped something thing and long. Immediately, he brought the stick down hard on the hand that was pushing him down.

Only it wasn't a stick, but a colour pencil, sharpened to a point.

A horrible sound filled the air, and Max saw red.

The boy shrieked and stared at the blue pencil sticking into his hand. The other children started screaming as well, while adults in the surrounding area ran to check up on the children. Max watched in horror as the blood started to trickle down the impaled appendage, and dripped down on his shirt.

One spot. Two spots.

"_Brat, why don't you go and die or something!"_

"_Father, no, I'm a good boy, stop, please! I won't do it again!"_

"_No, don't hurt him!"_

He staggered to his feet. His interrogators were all now preoccupied with their frenzied comrade, and they didn't notice as he took off, away from the park, across the road, down the street. His feet pumping him faster and faster as panic started to mount inside him, he just wanted to get away. Away from the boys. Away from the blood.

Away from his father.

Gasping, he turned a corner and ran.

* * *

Lovino skidded to a halt after turning the corner, and quickly pressed his body against the wall. Slowly, he inched forward, making sure to take cover under whatever he could find, whether it was a crate, a car, or a trash can. As he headed forward, he heard the voices get louder and louder.

"Don't make me do something I'll regret!"

Lovino winced at the harsh and fierce tone. "Definitely the Mafia," he decided quietly. Peeping over a bush, his eyes took in the scene before him.

There were three men involved. Two of them were threatening someone, but Lovino couldn't really see because they were blocking. The third man was standing close by, but he was probably just the lookout. All three of them were dressed totally in black. Not a single part of their body was not covered by black cloth. And on the right sleeve was the emblem that made Lovino's blood turn cold.

The Golden Wolf's Head, circled by laurel leaves.

"Il Famiglia," he breathed. "Not good."

Il Famiglia was the biggest and most influential Mafia clan in all of Italy. Their infamy spread far beyond South Italy, and Lovino would bet his tomatoes that they had branches even in his brother's cities. Maybe even in the hamburger bastard's place as well. So far, most of their crimes involved protection money, blackmail, and vandalism. But those were only the crimes that his lousy police had managed to pin them for. They had a finger in every bad pie, from drug trade to weaponry. But no one ever found the evidence needed to take them down. And if somebody pisses them off...

Well, pray to Maria that it's just a bullet in the brain, and not anything else.

Lovino considered his options carefully, as the men continued their cursing and threats.

"OK, the bastards haven't seen me yet. They probably have guns, and Maria knows that the police would take too long to get here." His hand inched down to his own pistol. "I could try to take them on, but..." Lovino swallowed nervously. He has had one too many dealings with the Mafia, some of them nearly having his guarded secret of being the personification of South Italy exposed. Right now most of the Mafia knew him as some glorified errand boy for the government, but if they started beating him up, even the stupidest of thugs would figure something was wrong if his wounds started healing on their own. His fingers slipped past the cool steel as he gave up the idea of an assault. "Chigi, I'm not the tomato bastard! I can't just swoop in, bang them on the head with a guitar and get out!"

Unfortunately, it looked like whoever the poor person was, Italia Romano wasn't in a position to help out.

"Damn it..." he closed his eyes with regret and he slowly tiptoed backwards. "Sorry kid, but you're on your own...I'll call the police, but other than that..." he felt a pang of guilt, but what else could he do? It's not like he was strong or anything, he wasn't macho potato!

Just as he was about to leave, one of the gangster whipped out a gun. Lovino felt his heart stop.

"Just tell us where she is already!"

The gangster brought the butt of his pistol down hard. South Italy winced when he heard the sickening crunch, but he stopped breathing when he heard the scream. His eyes widened as one of the men moved out of the way to grab the victim by the shirt.

It was a woman.

She was wearing a white blouse and a floral skirt. Long wavy black hair fell to her waist, but it was neatly tied up in a ponytail. Her skin was slightly tan, matching his, and her eyes were a gorgeous emerald green. She looked frail and frightened, her thin body wracked with sobs as she tried to pull away from the man who was handling her.

Suddenly, those men didn't look so tough.

As one of them raised his gun to hit her again, a single bullet sound shot out.

"_MERDA_!"

His two companions grabbed their guns while he dropped his, cursing and swearing at his bleeding hand.

"Who's there! Show yourself!" one of the other men shouted.

In reply, another bullet ripped through his right shoulder.

"_Porca_ _cazzo_!"

Before either of his friends could move, a barrage of bullets seem to come out from nowhere. Soon enough, their screams filled the air.

In all, it lasted just ten seconds.

The Mafia men lay on the ground, moaning about their wounds. None of them were in any condition to notice the slightly skinny young man coming out of the shadows, his gun smoking. Walking casually over, he gave each of them a smack on the head with the butt of his pistol, knocking them out, before he looked over at the woman he had just saved. Before he could say a word though, she just screamed out loud.

"Police! Over here, quick! This man's about to kill me!"

"Hey, w-wait, I'm not-"

Before Lovino could finish his sentence, rough hands slammed him against the wall.

"You're under arrest, Mafia scum!"

* * *

_Some translations are in order, I guess. _

_German: _

_Italien: Italy. No, I didn't misspell Italian. XD_

_Achten: Pay Attention. _

_Mein Gott: My God. Pretty explanatory._

_Italian:_

_Che ho fame: I'm hungry_

_Ludovico: Ludwig (Germany's name) in Italian._

_Aiutatemi: Save me_

_Merda: Shit_

_Porca Cazzo: I think it's a pretty bad Italian swear word, something like pork f*ck? I'm not too sure, XD. _

_Sorry if the quality is really bad, working is really sucking my brain dry. Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter, big shoutout to The-Charcoal-Alchemist, Marine is hope 2 and Pixelmicrocat. You can help make my day by reading and reviewing this chapter as well, because I need all the help I can find to write better!_


	3. Chapter 3: Late for dinner

__

_Disclaimer, I don't own Hetalia._

* * *

**Chapter 3: Late for dinner.**

"_Cazzo_!"

Lovino made extra sure to slam the door hard as he left the police station, just to show how pissed off he was. Six hours of interrogation, good-guy bad-guy cop routines, and a flunkie who thought he was the next Robert Di Nero. Not to mention no lunch.

"Stupid police, do I LOOK like I belong to the Mafia! _Porca Cazzo_!"

A startled scream from his left started him out of his rant and alerted him to the presence of two nuns. The younger one look scandalized, while the older one gave him a cross look. Romano felt his face redden. "Umm...sorry, _suora_..." he apologised. The two ladies crossed themselves and quietly walked passed him, but Lovino couldn't stab the guilt gnawing in his chest.

[Damn it, how could I swear in front of a nun!] he kicked himself mentally. [_Maria_ forgive me, I didn't mean to!] Rubbing his temples tiredly, he took a seat on a nearby bench, just to try and clear his head. He still couldn't believe that he had just been arrested by his own police! Without any other choice (Feli was still in Berlin, Antonio was sick, Bella was busy with her bastard of a brother, and there was no way he was going to call the macho potato or the wine bastard), he had to make one of the most embarrassing calls he had ever made in his life to his boss. Securing his release was no problem. It was living with the humiliation. His boss would surely tell his _fratello_, and once his _fratello_ knew, the news would spread to all the Nations faster than an Italian retreat.

"The only time they show up, and then they throw the wrong guy in jail. _Che palle_!" In anger he punched the wooden bench hard.

"CHIGI!"

Splinters. Just great.

[This is all that macho potato's fault!] he thought angrily. Picking at the splinters, he continued to mentally insult the blonde German with as many rude words as possible. [If he hadn't been here, I would be with Feli by now, I could've had a nice lunch with him, and hey, we might even be enjoying a nice dinner soon, but no, he had to go and make the stupid meeting, and my brother had to go, I bet it's also because of him that my boss is going after me about those bonds, and all the Mafiaso want me to pay them, and now I've got these stupid splinters stuck, and I sinned against holy women, and my coffee machine broke, and-]

"_Mi scusi_, _signore_."

"Hm?" Lovino glanced up from his injured hand and immediately, all thoughts of beer-drinking, wurst-eating potatos flew clean out of his head.

Standing in front of him was the girl from earlier. She still looked a bit shaken, but other than that she seemed uninjured. Clasped in her hands was a bouquet of daisies, the stems tied together with a red ribbon. Concern was written all over her face as her teary green eyes met with his harsh golden ones.

"_Signore_, ummm...are you alright?"

Although his right hand was bleeding and his stomach was starting to make it known that it was not happy, Lovino felt compelled to play the tough guy. [_Lovino Vargas, she looks like she's about to burst into tears anytime soon..._] he chided himself. [_Remember, you're the tougher twin. You can handle this_!]

Quickly, he managed a short laugh and replied, "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for asking. How about yourself?" he gestured towards her with his left hand. His other hand conspicuously crept behind his back.

She didn't notice the movement. Instead, her face relaxed into a bright smile as the corners of her eyes lit up. "Ah, I am fine, thank you. I'm just so relieved that you're not in trouble with the police anymore," she said cheerfully.

"It was just a mistake, at least they actually got to the place on time."

"Yes, sometimes I wish they could be a bit quicker, and that they'd stop running and hiding in tomato boxes every time the mafia appear (He made a note to sack the Head of the Police force the moment he went to work on Monday), and maybe they could be start exercising more often, some of them are really not fit, it's difficult for them to keep up with the crooks and..."

Lovino stared at her as she rambled on and on. [_Maria_, does she ever stop?] he wondered. [She's as bad as Feliciano, especially when he's around the macho potato. But I guess it's good that she's alright though, there's no excuse for hurting women. Why were they bothering her though?] Lovino racked his brain, recalling the scene from earlier. [The idiots were asking her about someone else, wasn't it? Maybe her friend got into trouble with them, and ran away? Or could it be her sister?]

"Oh yes, before I forget!"

Suddenly, white and gold was thrust in front of him. Lovino blinked hard. "Huh!"

The mysterious lady blushed and held out the flowers. He stared at them dumbfounded, but his hands reached out to receive the gift, splinters temporarily forgotten. His fingers ghosted over the soft petals, and the scent of the daisies washed all over him. [_They smell so nice..._] He inhaled the sweet scent deeply. When was the last time he got presents?

Suddenly, he registered that she was saying something to him.

"...for you, _signore_." She beamed happily at him, and he felt his heartbeat pick up slightly. "Thank you for saving me back then, and I'm sorry I got you arrested. I was just panicking you see, and I wasn't really thinking," she explained.

Romano was lost for words for once. His heart was starting to do the tarantella inside his ribs, and he felt the heat filling up his face. "Umm..._grazie_. You didn't have to get me anything though...I was just doing the right thing..." he eventually mumbled.

[Damn it, what's wrong with me! Why's my heart...beating so fast...damn it! What's going on!]

Thankfully, he was saved when his right hand picked that moment to remind him about the splinters. Lovino winced at the pain and glared angrily at the tiny pieces of wood. What he didn't expect though was for soft hands to wrap around his rough one.

"_Signore_, you're bleeding! Quick, we must get the splinters out!" She gently pulled him off the bench and led him down the street. "My shop is just down here _signore_, it won't take too long," she promised him. Too stunned for words, Lovino just barely managed a nod of the head. Just as they were about to enter the shop, she turned to him and giggled lightly.

"Silly me, I almost forgot! My name is Catarina Esposito!"

"Ca-ta-ri-na...umm, that's...a nice name! No, I mean, Yes, I mean, it's nice, not the meaning, but, um, yeah, m-my name's Lovino Vargas!"

"Tee hee. It's nice to meet you, _signore_ Lovino. I know most people don't usually meet in circumstances like ours, but I hope we can be good friends."

"S-sure, why not."

* * *

"And that concludes today's meeting, _Italien_. I hope that you learned something, and that you'll start implementing those fiscal policies that I told you about."

"Ve, alright Lodovico! Now let's go eat dinner, I'm starving! Do you want pasta again? Or would you prefer some of your sausages?"

Germany shrugged as he cleared the desk of the papers. "It does not make much difference to me, _Italien_," he told his friend. "Food is food. We can't afford to be fussy, not in times like these." Straightening up, he stacked the papers into two neat piles, before slipping them back into his briefcase.

North Italy, however, ignored his own mess of documents. He shook his head furiously at his friend's statement, outraged.

"You can't think like that Lodovico! Food is important in our lives!" he argued passionately, a pained expression on his face. "Good food not only gives you energy, it spreads happiness and brings friends and family together! If you were to eat only disgusting English food every day, then you'd be sick all the time, and then you can't do your work, or hang out with me, or take care of Berlitz, Aster and Blackie, or help _Giappone_, or-"

"Alright, alright, I get it," interjected Germany. He had already started on North Italy's reports, sorting them into perfectly equal piles all arranged according to their priority in assisting the economic recovery. "Let's just go some place nice, alright? I'm feeling a bit tired today, and I'd like to have a good night's sleep before my meeting with France tomorrow."

"Ve, that's right, you and Big Brother _Francia_ are working together to get rid of all the colds, si?" North Italy picked up his briefcase and held it open for Germany to put the papers inside. Ludwig sighed tiredly. "France isn't too bad off as compared to Spain and Portugal, and definitely less a headache than Greece and Ireland. Of all the other Euro members, he's the only one in any position to offer assistance." Finally satisfied with the condition of the room, Ludwig beckoned to Feliciano as he switched the electricity off. The shorter man complied, rushing out to keep in step with Germany.

"Will you be OK though Lodovico?" he asked worriedly. His amber eyes reflected his concern for Germany. "These days, everyone is asking you for help with their colds. Are you taking care of yourself as well? Make sure to eat well and sleep more, ve? _Siestas_ are an essential part of life, without them you'll go crazy!"

"_Ja ja_ _Italien_, I get it. You don't have to mother me."

"Ve, let's go for some delicious pasta now! You're going to need all the nutrition you can get, and what better food is out there than _pomodori_!"

North Italy dragged a bemused Germany down the streets of Berlin. Faint splashed of pink could still be seen in the far-off horizon, but other than that the dark night sky had completely covered the city. All around them were a plethora of people, some tourist, some local, but all of them seemingly having the same goal in mind; to have a nice evening out. It was a nice evening anyway, not too hot, not too cold, with the gentle breeze soothingly passing by. Germany felt his shoulders start to relax for the first time that week in the glow of lights as the street lights switched on. It HAD been a rough time for him, he had to admit that. Half of Europe was depending on him and France to bring them out of this sovereign debt crisis. He was sure even the usually carefree Nation was feeling it, the last meeting he had with France on Monday had seen a sleepy and lethargic man in suit replace the lecherous and flamboyant Frenchmen.

[Perhaps I do need the break]. He glanced at his friend chattering away at his side. A small smile escaped him as happiness seeped into his heart. Cowardly, carefree and caring North Italy. Always so cheerful and all smiles. A bright spot in his gloomy days.

[Being around you always makes me happy, Felizian. More than you know.]

"Ah, Lodovico?"

"Hm, yes _Italien_?"

"Are you fine? You've got a weird look on your face."

"Nein, I'm perfectly fine _Italien_. Is this the place?" The Italian restaurant was small, but cozy. The smell of delicious food wafted outside, and laughter rang out from the place. The sign outside read "The best home-cooked Italian food in all of Berlin!" and Ludwig had to admit that the smell coming from the restaurant was very enticing.

North Italy nodded excitedly. "_Si_! The owner's father had a place back in Venice, and I used to go there all the time! I'm so glad they've come here, maybe now you Germans don't have to eat that yucky sausage anymore!"

"Hey, _wurst_ is not disgusting! It's a good part of the German diet, and-"

The ring of North Italy's cellphone interrupted him. "Ah, _scusi_ Lodovico!"

Ludwig refrained from rolling his eyes as his best friend answered in Italian. At first, things seemed normal, but Ludwig hadn't been Feliciano's best friend for nearly 50 years to not pick up the sudden urgent tone in the Italian's voice. The pace and volume of his speech increased, and the hand gestures multiplied. Ludwig felt a sense of foreboding within him. Those weren't good signs.

When Feliciano finally hanged up, his amber eyes were wide with emotion. His face had gone completely pale, and his body was trembling. Ludwig uncrossed his arms and asked worriedly, "What's wrong, _Italien_? Did something happen?"

North Italy met his friend's eyes. His mouth opened, but no words came out.

"_Italien_? Are you-"

"I have to go home!"

Ludwig stared at his friend in shock. His hand reached out and grabbed his friend's arm.

"What? What's wrong _Itali_-"

"I'm sorry _Germania_, I have to go now! I...I'll explain later, but I have to go!" Ludwig watched as Feliciano wrenched out of his grasp and ran back the way they came, eventually disappearing into the crowd. The tension that had fled came roaring back with a vengeance, and his gut feeling intensified.

"_Was ist los_, _Felizian...?_"

* * *

Max slumped against the wall, breathing hard. "I feel like I'm going to be sick," he thought queasily. Struggling to catch his breath, he slowly sank down to the ground, his head spinning. His chest was burning, and if he even so much as jogged, he knew he was going to throw up.

"I'll take a break for now," he decided. "I can't keep walking like this..."

He glanced down at his shirt and gulped at the blood spots. His eyes started to sting and his mouth trembled as the incident replayed in his mind.

"_Idioten_, _idioten_! Why did I do that!" Miserably, he drew his knees to his chest. "I...I didn't want to hurt anyone...I just... I just..."

"_You're nothing but bad! You caused all of this! Go to hell!"_

The tears threatened to spill, but Max just bit his lip. He was NOT going to cry!

Taking a deep breath to calm down, he looked around to check out his surroundings. The street lights were bright, but instead of chasing the darkness away, they amplified the shadows all around him. There was nothing but silence, and there was no one else in the vicinity.

Max swallowed nervously. After the incident at the park, the only thought on his mind was to get away from everything. But a few wild crossings and wrong turns later, and he had accidentally stumbled into a part of the city that he did not know. Panicking, he had tried to retrace his steps, but to no avail. Every step back led him astray even further, to the point that he couldn't even remember which roads he had been or not. And now it was night time. He was supposed to be back at the orphanage, eating dinner, saying his prayers, doing his homework, and then going to bed. He was so late...

Again salt water came to his eyes, and this time he nearly lost control, when a sudden yell shocked him temporarily out of his panic.

[What was that?] Getting up, he headed in the direction where the voice had come from. [Maybe the person can help me get back?] Cheered up at the thought, he quickened his pace slightly. As his footsteps echoed off the rough walls of the alley that he had turned into, more sounds started popping up. And they didn't sound too friendly. Max started to tip-toe as his relief slowly melted back into doubt and fear. The faint glow around the corner didn't seem so warm, and by now he could hear voices.

_"Saukerl_!_" _someone hissed. Max's stomach clenched uneasily when a sickening crunch sound came next, followed by a muffled, but still audible scream. Immediately, Max covered his mouth and pressed his back to the wall. His heartbeat started to pick up, and his eyes widened. Cold sweat erupted as unbidden memories started to arise yet again...

"_Don't hurt him!"_

"_Schlampe__! Get out of the way!"_

"_Nein! Nein!"_

"NEEEEEIN!"

Fear struck him in the heart as he collapsed against the wall. He barely registered the man who came running to see what the noise was about, barely noticed as he was roughly wrenched out of his crouching position and dragged around the corner. For a moment, he wasn't in an alleyway, but in a nice house in a nice neighbourhood, and he was six, and he was late to the table because he was sick, and now he was going to be in so much trouble because there was dirt on his trousers...

The sharp tones of the man holding him brought him back to reality. The bright light shone directly on his face, and he blinked hard. But then the torchlight swung, and that was when he saw it.

The blood on the wall.

On the dumpster.

On the clothes.

And he saw the bundle lying in the corner. One white ghostly hand peeking out from the mouth of the bad, the fingers twisted and brutally mutilated. Moans and cries of pain came from the bag. But what chilled him to the bone was an icy voice coming from somewhere in the shadows, as a pair of dark eyes glared daggers at him.

"What are we going to do with you, _kind_?

* * *

"_Che_ _cosa abbiamo intenzione di fare con voi__, bambina?_" ("What are we going to with you, child?")

"_Voglio andare a casa! Voglio che mio papa! Mama! Tonino! Date loro schiena_!" ("I want to go home! I want my father! Mother! Tonino! Give them back!")

* * *

_Here are some translations, but most of them are pretty obvious._

_Italian:_

_Cazzo, porca cazzo = _bad words, nuff said.

_Suora _= Sister, used to address nuns.

_Maria _= Mother Mary

_Che palle_ = What balls. Yes, this is the same insult Romano used on Germany in the English dub. XD

_Signore _= sir

_Mi Scusi_ = Excuse me

_Grazie_ = Thank you

_Lodovico _= Ludwig in Italian. Yes, I got it wrong in the previous chapter, I will change it later!

_Giappone_ = Japan

_Francia_ = France

_Siesta _= afternoon nap

_Pomodori_ = tomatoes

_Si_ = Yes

_Germania _= Germany. No, like with Italien, I did not misspell Germany.

_German:_

_Italien_ = Italy

_Ja_ = Yes

_Felizien _= Feliciano in German

_Wurst _= Well, Wurst. German sausages.

_Was ist los_ = What's going on

_Idioten _= Idiot

_Saukerl_ = Bastard

_Schlampe _= Slut

_Nein _= No

_Kind_ = Child

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter! I'm trying a different style for thought speech, let me know if it works with you guys. I put all convo in their heads in []. Thanks for reading, and remember to review! And yes, I know my content just keeps getting longer and longer! Sorry! _


	4. Chapter 4: The eyes are the window

_Next chapter! This is one I've been looking forward to write for ages, enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia._

* * *

**Chapter 4: The eyes are the window to your soul.**

Max didn't know how long he was out, but when he came to, it was to the sound of muffled screams. He squeezed his eyes shut, as tight as possible, and tried to cover his ears but discovered instead that his hands were tied together behind his back. Cold leather suddenly wrenched his head up, and Max nearly screamed himself.

"Open your eyes, _kind_."

He was afraid to even peek, but the grip on his chin tightened. Reluctantly, he did as he was told.

The man who was holding him up was dressed all in black. His face was obscured by a mask, and he wore a hat with a weird symbol on it. Max had seen it before somewhere, but he couldn't place it. Whatever mask he wore though could not hide the steel orbs that pierced into him so intently. For a few terrifying seconds, the man held his gaze, his black eyes seemingly searching him for something. Finally, the man broke the silence and spoke.

"_Kind_, you should have stayed home. You are too young to be out on the streets at this time of the night."

The reproach sounded exactly like something Sister Marie would say to the naughty children at the orphanage. But it carried with it a sharp edge that seemed to strike fear right into his heart. Max swallowed nervously.

"Unfortunately we cannot allow you to leave, for obvious reasons."

His heart nearly stopped beating there and then. The man in black dragged him and shoved him in front of the light. Max stood there, his eyes wide with fright. In front of him was the black bundle from before. The white hand was no longer there, but pooling around the bundle was a red liquid that Max knew all too well. The sounds coming from it were now much quieter.

Something was pressed into his numb hands.

"Usually, we would dispose of all who witness our activities. However...you display the signs of the superior race. It would be a pity to lose someone of your potential, when our country is in dire need of the few remaining."

He barely paid attention anymore. Shakily, he glanced down at the instrument in his hand.

It was a gun.

"Hence, I give you this choice. In front of you is the worse type of scum imaginable on earth. He is a traitor to your country. Shoot him, prove your loyalties, and we will let you go."

Max stared at his hand, and then at the black bag in front of him.

"Admittedly, it is a difficult, that which I ask you to do. But the time is coming when we all will have to make difficult decisions, _kind_, even you." A tinge of gentleness and sympathy seeped into the icy voice. He leaned in next to him and said quietly,

"You can be a hero now, to your country." A gloved black hand slid over his, gently nudging the gun upwards and towards the target. The devil on his shoulder continued to whisper, "You can do the right thing, and bring forth a better land for you and your people." Like a snake, he slithered down the small boy's hand, finally resting his own finger on top of the other. Two fingers on one trigger.

"I can help you, Max."

By now, Max couldn't even think properly. [_If I don't shoot, I'll die. But if I shoot, then...then...!_] His arm started to shake but still the other man held on to him firmly. Time ticked by, it may have only been a few seconds, but to Max it was eternity. [_I don't want to, I don't want to...I don't want to hurt anyone!_]

"_You...you have to l-live Max..."_

He gripped the gun harder. Bringing up his other hand, he clamped it over his hand and pointed it.

[_I don't want to I don't want to I don't want to!_]

"_Live...for me..."_

[_I DON'T WANT TO DIE!_]

* * *

Ludwig stumbled against the postbox and swore. "Scheiße!" Grabbing the object, he hoisted his body up slowly, before continuing his journey back home. [_This is the last time I drink with Dänemark, I don't even know what he's doing here!_] He rubbed his temples as the starting signs of a bad headache started to emerge. [_I've really gone and done it this time..._] he thought ruefully. [_I've got a meeting with France tomorrow, and then another briefing with Spain. How am I ever going to survive tomorrow?_]

He made a mental note to never ever chug that amount of beer, or go out to a bar with the Dane, ever again. He had met Denmark while on the way to another restaurant. Christensen had insisted on Ludwig taking him to the best alcoholic establishment in town. Ludwig himself had felt slightly upset and lonely that North Italy had taken off just like that, and decided that some company would've been better than none.

Too bad it ended with the both of them kicked out of the place, with Denmark half nude and Ludwig sporting a gigantic bruise as a result of the bar fight Denmark had started.

A call to Norway had the quieter Nation arriving with Iceland in tow. Apparently, the three Nordics were on vacation. Ludwig had barely enough thinking power left to even dial properly, and had promptly left at the first sight of the others.

[_Look at me now,_] he thought disgustedly. [_Half-drunk, nearly incoherent, and it's already past midnight! What am I going to do...?_] The bruise had already faded thanks to his fast healing; but unfortunately, hangovers weren't part of the illnesses that Nations could get over fast.

[_I need to get back and go to bed,_] he decided. [_Hopefully I'll be able to figure out somethi_]

A sudden gunshot interrupted his thoughts.

Immediately Ludwig sobered up. [_What was that!_ _It came from down there!_] He turned into a different street and ran. All effects of the alcohol were pushed aside as his adrenaline kicked in. Quickly he grabbed his cell phone and dialled the emergency number. As he spoke with the operator, a second gunshot rang out into the night. The woman on the other side promised that they would get there as soon as they could after Ludwig passed her all the details. Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he heard some form of commotion from an alleyway to his left. Just as he was about to turn in, something shot out and slammed right into his leg.

It was a boy. The child took a few steps forward before he collapsed, head hanging, his hands and knees on the ground. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving up and down.

Ludwig stared at the sticky red footprints that had followed him. [_Blood..._] The slight tang reinforced his guess. "_Kind_, are you alright! Are you hurt!" he asked urgently.

The boy looked up at the sound of his voice. Red was splashed across his features, but it did not hide them. Sky blue met sky blue. Ludwig blinked. The hair, the eyes, the face...it was almost like he was looking at a younger copy of himself. From the look on the boy's face, it seemed that he too had noticed the similarities. For a stunned moment, neither of them moved, until the boy suddenly burst into a set of harsh coughs that seemed to go on forever. Ludwig snapped out of his stupor and quickly grabbed the boy. "Hey! What's wrong!" His hand froze. The entire front part of the boy's shirt was stained red. It was like he had emerged himself in blood. And his hacking just continued on and on.

The scream of the siren came from afar. Immediately Ludwig carried the boy and ran, the blood dripping to the ground in sick drops. "Hang in there, _kind_," he muttered. "You're going to be alright." The boy weakly glanced up at him, before his eyes closed.

* * *

"_Sul mare luccica l'astro d'argento.  
Placida è l'onda. Prospero è il vento._"

In a room somewhere in Naples, a small girl sat on the chair motionlessly. All around her were packed boxes, all tapped up. The walls of the room were stripped clean of any decoration and colour; where there had once been colourful pictures, now there was only cold stone and concrete. The only sound that could be heard was coming from an old gramophone in the corner as it sang out a melodious tune.

"_Sul mare luccica, l'astro d'argento.  
Placida è l'onda. Prospero è il vento._"

Dressed all in black, the little girl stared sadly at the floor. In her arms was a stuffed wolf, the toy all ragged and worn out. But it was clear from the way she hugged it that it was very precious to her, albeit it's condition.

"_Venite all'agile, barchetta mia,  
Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia._"

Hushed whispers flitted from outside. An older man and a woman, trying to keep themselves from being heard, but she heard them anyway.

"What do we do with her, if he says no? There is no other family around. We could send her to the orphanage, but she would not be happy..."

"I know, she took their deaths so badly, the poor dear..."

"Let's just forget him and take her with us. It'll be difficult, but we can manage!"

"Niccolo, that isn't going to work! Rosa made it clear who was to take care of her! And we're not in the best position ourselves to take care of a child."

"I know Francesca, I know! But you can't just expect me to trust this, this man can you!"

"What can we do? It was Rosa and Marco's wish that she would be reunited with him, in case anything happened. If there's anyone we have to trust it's the both of them, God bless their souls."

"_Venite all'agile, barchetta mia,  
Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia._"

As the gramophone rattled off the last line of the song, a loud slam of the door could be heard echoing from the front. She didn't pay much attention to it though. For her, her world was dead. There wasn't going to be any more happy songs, no more happy paintings, no more happy dinner times with her family. Her vision turned blurry as tears started to slide down her face again. She had cried so many times during the last few days that she felt she was going to go blind. But then, she'd rather lose her sight, if she could just get one more day with them...

The door swung open. She braced herself for the final goodbye for the house; she knew Uncle Niccolo and Aunty Francesca had come to take her away forever. She shut her eyes tightly and squared herself; she wouldn't go without a fight!

Suddenly, she felt someone gently caressing her cheeks, brushing away her tears.

"_Bambina_, please stop crying."

[_Who is that?_] Slowly, she opened her eyes. Crouched down in front of her to be at her eye level was a man that she had never seen before. His amber eyes peered into hers lovingly, and although he too had tears coming from his eyes, he was smiling at her happily. "A pretty lady should always have a smile on her face, right?"

She looked at him in confusion. "Who...who are you, _signore_?" she asked timidly. The smile on his face broadened further and she found herself engulfed in a fierce hug. Her eyes widened with shock at the sudden embrace.

"Me?" he whispered into her ear protectively. "I'm your new _padre_, Lucia."

* * *

The light from the laptop illuminated the dark room. Nearby was a cup of coffee, now gone cold. The article on the screen was unfinished, but its title read out "The French Connection...dead or alive?" The writer was sprawled out on her bed, deep asleep. Blonde hair messily spread out, she was still dressed in her work clothes.

The phone started ringing. A slender hand reached for the receiver. Bringing it to her ear, she answered sleepily "_Résidence de l'Enclos, Marianne parler...__Eh!_" ("de l'Enclos residence, Marianne speaking…Eh!")

The speaker shot up in bed wide awake.

"_Vous avez trouvé une avance?_ _Où!__" _(You found a lead? Where!")

She literally jumped out of bed and grabbed a pencil. Scribbling down an address on a piece of paper, she smiled gleefully. "_Merci, le déjeuner sera sur moi quand je serai de retour!_ " (Thank you very much, lunch will be on me when I get back!") She paused for a moment, and sighed. "Ne vous inquiétez pas, ça va? Je vais bien, " ("Don't worry, alright? I'll be fine,") she grumbled. She tilted her hips to one side and rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "Oui oui, je sais. Bon, je vous promets. Prenez soin. " ("Yes yes, I know. Alright, I promise. Take care.") With a press of a button, she disconnected the call. Dragging out a suitcase, she started to pack her clothes.

"_Je vous avez maintenant Jacques! Vous ne s'en sortira pas cette fois!_" ("I have you now Jacques! You won't get away this time!")

* * *

_Yes, a shorter chapter. Finally, Ludwig meets up with Max! And the formal introduction of Lucia, the daughter of North Italy! (Yes, I do think Feli is not as innocent as he looks. =P) The song that's playing when Lucia is in her room is Santa Lucia, a very beautiful traditional Italian song. Go look it up! _

_The French Connection was a drug scheme in the 1970s, mainly to do with heroin. For more info, go to Wikipedia. _

_**Silent Pandemonium**__: I'm glad you like my Lovino. I'm very fond of South Italy, but I'm sorta tired of seeing the angry side of him, especially when it comes to guys. Partly the reason why this time he's with a girl instead, so that I can portray cute and lovesick Lovi! And thanks for your compliment about the OCs. I'm worried that I might end up writing Mary Sues and Gary Stews, so your remark is really a great relief to me! It makes me very happy to know that you like Max! I was worried that I was portraying him too emo-ly. But then again, angst is a German word. ;)_

_**Marine_is_hope2**_: _Lovi's going to be getting lots of love next chapter. And don't worry, things will look up for Max. I can't stand giving kids unhappy endings._

_There'll be a return to Romano and Catarina in the next chapter though, so look out for it!_

_Please read and tell me what you feel about this chapter. Reviews will be awarded with internet cookies._


	5. Chapter 5: Silence is golden?

_Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia._

* * *

**Chapter 5: Silence is golden?**

Romano pinched himself hard. The sharp twinge he felt assured him that he wasn't dreaming, and that he really was having a beautiful young woman bandaging his hand.

_Secreto della Clori_ was a tiny shop at the corner of the street. In the busy area, the flower shop often went unnoticed by the passer-bys, mainly tourists, as they hurried to the next sight-seeing tourist attraction. The sweet scent that wafted from the delicate buds managed to draw some attention from the tourists, but then again, most of them weren't here for the flowers. But if one were to take the time to observe, one would be treated to a feast for the eyes. The simple store was decorated in the front by a myriad of flowers, a display full of colour and life. Red roses intertwined with their white cousins, blue bellflowers dangled above the white lilies, and pink carnations mingled with yellow dahlias in perfect harmony.

Not to mention the daisies.

Never in all of Rome would you find a shop that was so filled with the dainty things. Whether it was the front of the shop, or inside, the entire place was practically dominated by them. There was no way you could miss the white daisies. Although there were the marigolds, the tulips, the lilies, the violets, their numbers paled in comparison to the daisies.

It was in this shop that Romano found himself staring somewhat apprehensively at Catarina as she chattered to him non-stop. Usually Romano often found himself two inches away from strangling his younger brother when he started blabbing. But he found himself oddly tolerant of Catarina's continuous stream of words that didn't seem to end. He sat quietly, making occasional noises of agreement when he agreed, and shrugging non-committedly when he didn't. However, when the conversation somehow turned to her love of cute puppies and kittens, he felt the need to salvage his sanity. He got his chance when she stopped to gather her breath.

"Say Catarina, why do you have so many daisies in your shop? I thought most people didn't like them," he interjected quickly. "Eh?" she glanced up from the bandages. "The daisies?" she repeated questioningly. Lovino nodded; relieved that she had been distracted from her story about her pet kitten Mario and his adventures with the kitchen blender.

Catarina tied the last knot on the bandages and straightened up. Her slim fingers went out to caress the petals of the nearest daisy. "Daisies are a symbol of purity, you know." Romano watched as she reached for the watering can and sprinkled gently over Romano's bouquet of the flowers on the nearby table. "A daisy is said to represent purity, loyal love, innocence, faith, cheer, and simplicity," she continued. "Many people prefer red roses, or pink carnations, then the simple daisy. But in the end, it is the daisy that will last longer. Roses fade, carnations get blown by the wind, but the daisy endures throughout hardships and through time. That's why...I think daisies are the perfect flowers. What they stand for shouldn't just change with the seasons. They should remain ever-lasting."

She turned back to face him, a gentle expression on her face. "They say that society has changed, that our traditional values can no longer be found, especially not in the city." Catarina held out the bouquet to him. "But everywhere you go, you'll always find a daisy. They remind me that there are kind people out there in the world, even in the darkest and saddest city. Like you," she giggled. Lovino felt his face turn red again. He took the bouquet and mumbled back, "Urm...thanks. I'm not that good a person though..."

Catarina laughed and flopped down on the bench next to him. "You came to rescue me, even though it was none of your business. You could've gotten hurt. But you burst in and saved me, like a prince to his princess. You're really my hero!"

Lovino felt like he was melting into a puddle of water. His thoughts were all a mess, and it didn't help that his heart was thumping like a rabbit's foot inside his chest. Deep inside, he felt a tinge of shame. He had nearly left her, his own fear of the Mafia nearly overcoming him at the beginning. But he always did have a soft spot for women.

Unfortunately, his stomach picked that moment to remind him of his lack of lunch. Romano flushed with embarrassment, while Catarina chuckled. "Do you have a hunger bug there?" she asked mischievously. "I was thinking about going out for dinner tonight. Would you like to join me, _signore_ Lovino? There's a great restaurant nearby, it serves delicious food!"

"Sure," Romano agreed. He didn't have any other plans that night anyway, and a meal with someone OTHER than the tomato jerk and his stupid brother would be a welcome change. Catarina seemed nice enough, and she did give him the flowers...as a proper Italian man, it would only be manners to treat her out! Romano held the door open for her while he said, "You know, there's this even better place down the other street..."

* * *

The hospital was not a place that Ludwig visited often. Being the representation of a country sort of made you immune to the common cold and other minor illnesses, and the many broken bones that he had compiled over the years would usually heal up in the day itself (this was a blessing, especially when North Italy was driving). Hence, he found himself awkwardly loitering in the waiting area, sandwiched between a drunk hobo and a scantily-clad woman who winked at him suggestively, before she burst into a fit of coughs. Clearing his throat, he picked up the year old magazine on the book rack and flipped through a few pages, pretending to be interested in the outdated celebrity gossip. However, the only thing on his mind was the small boy he had found in the alleyway just thirty minutes ago.

A small frown tugged at his lips. From what he saw earlier, although the boy was drenched in red he wasn't injured himself. Then why had he fainted? Maybe from the emotional stress and trauma? He didn't look any older than ten that was for certain, and he was clearly shaken. Even without the bloodstained clothes, the expression on his face was a good enough giveaway. His eyes had had that wild look in them, suggesting that the boy had witnessed something that had scared him to the core.

Those blue eyes that looked so much like his.

Ludwig sighed and folded the magazine up. He had accompanied the boy to the hospital in the ambulance, and already six paramedics had assumed he was the father. [_It is strange,_] he reflected, [_that he looks so much like me. A freaky coincidence._] He crossed his arms and leaned back on the plastic chair. [_Why am I even here?_] he wondered. [_Not that I'm not worried about him, but this is really something that his parents should be dealing with, not some total stranger!_] Ludwig continued to complain about irresponsible parents letting their children out at ungodly hours in his head until a nurse called out his name.

Started, he stood up and asked in a concerned tone, "Is he alright?" The women smiled back at him, and he felt relief seep in. "Yes sir. Your son is doing well. The doctors have attended to him, and apart from a tiny bruise on his right hand and a bruise on his left arm, he is perfectly alright."

"Ah, I'm not the boy's father, I'm afraid," Ludwig quickly corrected. "I just happened to be passing by when I found him." The nurse was genuinely surprised by this. "Oh, please excuse me sir. It's just that-"

"Yes, I know I look like him." Ludwig was fighting the urge to yawn, he was really tired, but he just wanted to make sure the kid was alright before he headed home. "I just happened to be passing by when I found him, that's all. I was just wondering though whether I could pop in to see him before I head back home. His parents are coming soon right?"

The nurse looked down at her check board for a few seconds. "Unfortunately, no one seems to have claimed him just yet. But it is pretty late, so I'm sure someone will come for him in the morning. Just come with me sir, and I'll show you to his room. He's still awake as of the moment."

"Thank you."

An elevator lift and two corridors later, Ludwig found himself at the children's wards. Knocking quietly on the door, she gently pushed it open.

"_Kind_, the man who saved you wants to see you."

She turned to Ludwig and nodded. Ludwig entered the room. It still stunned him how similar the boy looked to him. The wild gleam in those young eyes was gone, replaced with a guarded look. His face was expressionless, but Ludwig could feel that the boy was watching him. The nurse left the two alone, and for a moment boy and man just stared at each other.

Ludwig felt even more socially inept than ever before. He was not good with children. If anything, children often ran screaming away from him. He really didn't know how to approach this boy without giving him nightmares. The boy, on the other hand, continued to throw very sharp glares at Ludwig.

Feeling that he should try to at least break the silence, Ludwig took a seat next to the bed. "How are you feeling, _kind_?" he asked, trying to sound as nice as possible. If anything, it only made him sound like he was having a bad toothache.

"I'm fine, _herr_," was the stoic reply. Another awkward moment passed. Ludwig felt that he really should try to say SOMETHING to the child he had rescued. After racking his brain for a few minutes, he fell on something that he was remotely comfortable with, and was probably something the boy needed to hear anyway. Rules and discipline.

"You shouldn't have been out at such late a time," he admonished. To his surprise, instead of complaining or whining as most kids (and North Italy) would do, the boy hung his head, ashamed. Feeling encouraged by this, he carried on. "There are many bad people out in this world who would take you away and do horrible things to you. You are very lucky to have not been hurt worse. In the future, please do not do such things ever again." The boy muttered back, "Yes _herr_. _Danke_. For helping me."

"It was no problem. Have you contacted your parents yet?" Ludwig asked.

"I...I don't have any parents."

Ludwig felt a smidge of sympathy for him. He himself at least had Gilbert during his adolescent years. In spite of his obnoxious manners and his tendency to get wasted on a regular basis, Gilbert had at least managed to bring him up during the chaotic times of Europe.

[_Gilbert_.]

A wave of sadness washed over him. If Gilbert was here, he could get this child to smile in a flash, he was always so good at goofing around that most children used to think he was a kid himself. He'd waggle his eyebrows, stick out his tongue, and do funny dances that often had Ludwig squirming with embarrassment, but the children applauding for more.

His eyes started to hurt again, why did they always sting whenever he thought of his dead brother, it was already twenty years...

"_Herr_? Are you crying?"

The blunt question reminded Ludwig that he was in front of a child who needed some comforting of his own. Quickly he brushed the water away and attended back to him. "Ah, no. Just some dust that's all." The lie probably did not go unnoticed by the boy, but he kept quiet. Ludwig cleared his throat and addressed him again. "Well, where do you live then _kind_? I can call your guardian then, and let them know you're here. They must be very worried."

The boy regarded him suspiciously. "Sorry, I was told not to tell strangers where I live," he replied brusquely.

"But if you don't tell me, then how will we call them then?"

"...I know the number. I can call them tomorrow."

Ludwig had to admit he was taken aback by the boy's cold and abrupt manner. His replies were short, precise and polite, but also very blunt and forward. It almost seemed like he was trying to brush him off. The Nation couldn't help but feel slightly peeved. [_I know that children must be careful when talking to strangers, but there is a difference between someone you don't know and someone who rescued you and sent you to the hospital._] Irritated, he decided to take his leave. He really needed to get some sleep anyway; he was going to have a busy day tomorrow.

"Well _kind_, please take better care of yourself," he said, slightly stiffly. "Don't go out on your own at night again."

As he turned to leave, he could still feel the two blue eyes boring into his back. Shuddering, he closed the door, relieved that the child was alright and that he wouldn't have to deal with him any longer.

[_Really, such a grumpy boy!_]

* * *

Romano was in a pretty good mood as he rummaged for his key. "Maria, that was a great night out." He had taken Catarina to one of his favourite restaurants, and the two of them had had a delicious dinner together. She even laughed at some of his stories! OK, so she was a little blur, and she had the tendency to start rambling if he didn't stop her, but hell, she made him feel good about himself. They didn't really talk much about each other's personal details, but that suited Romano just fine. He would be meeting up with her again sometime during the week, so he had a bit of leeway to invent a history for himself.

[_La bella vita!_] he sighed happily. Romano finally found his key and was about to push it in the lock when the door suddenly swung open on its own volition. He stared at his key, puzzled. [_That's funny, I could've sworn I locked it..._]

"_Fratello_?"

His younger brother was sitting at the table, and uncharacteristic expression of worry and sadness on his face. A plate of cold spaghetti bolognese lay on the wooden table, untouched. The lights were all off, except for the kitchen ones. It threw the whole place into a mess of shadows.

"Fe-Feliciano?"

"We...we need to talk."

_Some of the foreign words I used are pretty obvious, so I'm not going to translate them. However, "Secreto della Clori" means "The Secret of Clori." Clori, aka Clorys, is the Romano goddess of Flowers. _

_**Pixelmicrocat: **__Well, I'm glad you're enjoying the story! I have no idea how to write romantic!Romano, so I'm making this up as I go. There's going to be a lot of brother interaction next chapter as well, ^^. And I'm glad that you like my writing style, although I feel that I have a long way to go before I get as good as TCA. Thanks for reading and reviewing though, you get an internet cookie!_

_I am so sorry this chapter is so late...I found it difficult to write Max and Ludwig's convo, in my mind it was just filled with lots of awkward silences and Ludwig messing it up._

_Please read and review to let me know how I can write better. I'll see you guys next round!_


	6. Chapter 6: MAD SCENE!

_Please remember to read the notes at the end of the fic, it's really crucial that you do!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia._

* * *

**Chapter 6: MAD SCENE*!**

Lucia peeked nervously from under her quilt, half bewildered, half afraid. In less than a day, she had gone through a funeral, said goodbye to her family, who she really hoped were in Heaven singing with the angels, and was about to say goodbye to her home when suddenly, she had a new "_papa_", who shared her auburn hair and amber eyes, and who literally popped out of nowhere. Now they were apparently at her new uncle's house. They were going to spend the night there before heading to her new home somewhere in Venice, her "_papa_" had explained.

She really didn't know what to do or say.

Throughout the whole journey (Lucia had never been on an airplane before, it had scared her to pieces), she had merely nodded at every statement that was addressed to her. Her feelings were all a whirlwind in her heart. Just a few hours ago, she had cried her tiny heart out for her father, mother and baby brother, all cruelly taken away from her when the car they were in was involved in a horrible accident. She had thought she was going to go without family for the rest of her life. But now, she had a new father, one who had promised that he was going to take care of her and love her. And tomorrow, he was going to introduce her to her newuncle.

Well, that was the original plan until Lucia found that she couldn't sleep. After she had been tucked into bed, she hugged Luppy tight and tried to fall asleep, but the turmoil of emotions inside her was keeping her awake. For a while she lay in bed, dressed in her pajamas and clutching her stuffed wolf doll. The silence was overbearing; if she was at home, her _mama_ and her _papa_ would be by her side, singing lullabies to her. She would be able to hear the sound of the ocean, the waves forming the rhythm to which her parents would sing to her with. And she would happily dream of the tomorrows which would come, filled with pasta, music, art and love.

Tears had started to flow again. Lucia tried to stifle her sob, but the loneliness was too much. [_If papa was still here, he'd hug me, and tell me funny stories, and chase the monsters away, and sing our song..._] She cried into the quilt as softly as she could. She didn't know whether her new _papa_ would get angry or not, or whether he would comfort her the same way that her old _papa_ did.

[_No, not my old papa_,] she thought sadly.

[_My real one._]

Eventually though, her need for a hug overcame her own fear. Slipping out of bed, she crept over to the door and had just pushed it open a slit when she heard her _padre_ (Lucia had decided to call him that, as _papa_ was only reserved for her true father) call out.

"_Fratello_?"

"Fe-Feliciano?"

The new voice, rougher and deeper, had Lucia squeak with fright and scrambling back to her bed. However, she had neglected to close the door. As she trembled underneath her quilt, she realised that _padre_ had addressed the newcomer as brother, making him her new _zio_. In spite of her fear, she was slightly curious as to how he would look like. As quiet as possible, she crept out of bed again, and she put her face as close as she dared to the crack at the door.

* * *

Feliciano really had no idea how to breach the topic with his brother Lovino. His own thoughts were all a muddle, as he tried to come to terms with the events that had just happened. Past memories of walks along the canals, romantic dinners by candlelight, the breakup with the one woman who held his heart, and the single night where both of them had taken things too far, kept pushing themselves into his mind after being held under lock and key in his heart for so long. On the ride back to Rome, he had tried to figure out exactly what he was going to do, and how he was going to explain the situation to Lovino without sparking another furious argument between them. Only this time though, things were really his fault, and not even Lodovico could rescue him out of the mess he had made.

The cold plate of pasta seemed to stare at him accusingly as he looked down at the table, lost in his thoughts. He had made it for his brother when he got back, he couldn't just sit still and just wait, and doing something helped to calm his nerves...somewhat. Maybe Lovino would accept the peace offering. Or he might just throw it back at his face.

As the minutes ticked by, Feli shot quick glances at the door to his room. More guilt built up in his gut, and he fixed his eyes back onto his hands.

[_Fratello is really late today..._] It was alright though; it would give him more time to sort out what he needed to tell Lovino. He had thought of writing a letter, but he felt that this sort of news required him to tell it personally.

9 o clock became 10, became 11, became 11.30, before he heard the door push open. His voice nearly failed him, but he managed to squeak out.

"_Fratello?"_

His brother had a shocked look on his face, but Feli knew that very quickly, the shock was going to turn into anger. Taking a deep breath, he said, as calmly as he could before he lost his nerve:

"We...we need to talk."

* * *

Lovino blinked. His younger brother was clearly a wreck. "What, did you make the macho potato angry again?" he sneered, arms crossing his chest. "Did he yell at you and finally told you to get loss, like the loser you are?" Just because he had a good night out doesn't mean he was going to let his younger brother off the hook. Maybe he might just chew him out slightly less, that's all.

Feli just swallowed and continued to find the floor very interesting. "It...it might b-be better if you seat down first, _fratello_. And I made you some pasta, so, if you want to eat that, you can eat it too..."

Alarm bells started ringing in Lovino's head. When Feli made him spaghetti bolognese, with extra cheese grated on the top decorated with a sprig of mint, especially at 11.30 pm at night, it meant that he had something really, REALLY serious that he needed to say. The last time he had done this was when Feli told him that they were allied to Germany back in World War 2. So, the fact that he had made this particular dish tonight, coupled with his trembling and shivering, spelt disaster with a capital D for the older twin.

Suspiciously he slid into the chair opposite his brother. With one hand he pushed the pasta to the side gently. "_Fratello_, what did you do this time?" His tone, which could be mistaken by people who were not familiar with the fiery Italian, was soft and smooth, but Feli squeaked with fear. If people thought Romano was bad when he was screaming profanities, they had obviously not seen him when he was in his "Mafia" mode. The term of endearment did nothing to soothe Feli either; it just meant that Lovino meant business, and that no amount of pasta would prevent the volcano from erupting and spitting out chunks of lava and hot rock in every direction, killing everything in its path.

In short, Feliciano was screwed.

A few short minutes passed, as Feli squirmed in his chair and twiddled his thumbs under his brother's piercing gaze. Lovi just let the pressure and tension do the job though. Eventually, Feli built up enough courage and started.

"Umm...d-do you remember Rosa?" he asked nervously.

"Rosa? You mean that opera singer you dated nearly ten years ago?" Lovino had met her a few times. She was smart, independent, brave, and most importantly, Italian, so he had closed an eye to the relationship. And besides, Feli didn't have the guts to do anything except give her roses and serenade her. "Yeah, of course I remember her."

"Well...she died just last week."

Immediately, Lovino softened up. "Oh." [_So that's why he's so upset_] he thought. He felt bad for his brother. Friendships with humans often ended this way, with the human dying and the Nation left to carry on with the hurt. It was the reason main why most of the Nations refrained from having anything else past an acquaintance with their people, even with their bosses. Dropping his intimidating glare, he tried to comfort his brother.

"Feli, you shouldn't feel bad about it. It's not your fault-"

"It's...it's not that!"

Lovino started at his brother's outburst. Feli looked like he was about to crumple to the ground any second now. Tears were starting to fall down his face and he looked absolutely miserable. Before he could say anything else though, Feli continued on.

"I...Lovino, I did something bad!"

A sense of foreboding started to rise within Lovino. What could Feli do that was bad to Rosa? His brother wouldn't hurt a fly, he'd be more likely to run away from the insect! Lovino tried to remember the day when his brother came back and told him he had broken up with Rosa. Sure, he had looked absolutely heart-broken and wretched, but that was to be expected when you had to cut off your relationship with a person that you loved. At the most, they probably had a bad fight, and maybe Feli had accidentally said some things that he shouldn't have said, but that was probably it, right? So why was his brother so affected?

By now, Feli was close to hyperventilating. His eyes were opened wide and frantic, while his hands were tightened into fists. His breaths were loud and ragged, and it seemed that at any moment he was going to go crazy. Suddenly, a string of words exploded from his mouth, so fast that Lovino couldn't catch a single word that he said. Waving his arms around frantically at the same time, he really did look every inch insane.

Fed up and afraid, Lovino leaned forward and slapped his brother lightly across the face. "Get a hold of yourself _fratello_!" he yelled angrily. "I know you're upset that she died, but there's no need to pull a Lucia di Lammermoor*, ok! Just calm down and tell me what's wrong!"

"I...I..."

"Yes!"

Feli hung his head with shame and mumbled. Lovino rolled his eyes exasperatedly and threw his own arm out passionately.

"Just say it already, you idiot! It's not like you touched her or anything!"

"I...I made...I made love to her."

"..."

"_Fr-fratello_?"

"_**MADONNA, you did WHAT**_!"

* * *

Marianne took her seat in the airplane and sighed with relief. She wasn't sure whether she could get to the airport on time. She didn't even have time to charge her cell phone; the battery had been dead from yesterday. She kicked off her stilettos and rested her feet on the footrest and took the moment to relax. Ignoring the leery looks that the men seated on the other side kept giving her, she pulled out a notebook and started jotting down the latest leads that her editor/informant had given her. The pages were already filled with so much biro that she had very little space to write anything else down. She resolved to herself to pick up a new book when she touched down in Italy.

As the airplane started to taxi for lift off, she felt a thrill of excitement. The new information seemed very promising indeed. She couldn't wait to get to Naples to start her investigation...but first of all, she had to drop by Rome first. She needed to check up on her ditzy friend first and make sure she hadn't somehow wandered into trouble while skipping along the streets in Rome. Honestly, that girl had nothing but flowers on her brain.

[_I do hope Catherine remembered to put lilies in her shop. Daisies are so boring._]

* * *

_"So...you failed."_

_"I have no excuse."_

_"...never mind. It is just a minor setback. I've already sent some men to clear things up. Is the plan still on course?"_

_"Yes. I spoke with Jakobus already. Our other allies are also on the move as well."_

_"Very well, carry on."_

_"Sir, what about the girl?"_

_"...send One after her."_

_"One, sir?"_

_"Yes. However, make sure she is unharmed, or we will have Jakobus coming after us. Stupid sentimental fool."_

_"Yes sir."_

* * *

_*A Mad Scene is actually an opera term. According to Wiki, it's "an enactment of insanity in an opera or play". It was usually meant as a time for the singer to show off their singing abilities, and is usually very VERY dramatic. A famous "Mad Scene" is from __**Lucia di Lammermoor**__, hence Romano referencing it. Go check it out on Youtube if you want an idea of how a Mad Scene goes, especially the ones sung by Maria Callas or Dame Sutherland, who are both very incredible soprano singers. In my head canon, both Italians are big opera fanatics, considering that some of the most famous opera composers are from Italy (eg. Verdi, Donizetti, Bellini and Rossini. The first three actually wrote Mad Scenes in their operas, and it was Donizetti who composed Lucia di Lammermoor. Rossini is famous for the Barber of Seville, which has the famous Figaro Figaro Figaro song inside it)._

_A shorter chapter, but hey, at least the plot's coming along, isn't it?_

_Some notes about the confession scene with the Italians. I've been told that Italians are a passionate and dramatic lot, so I tried to portray Feli and Lovi that way. No idea whether I captured that here though. They also like hand gestures a lot, hence with the arm waving and throwing around that both brothers pulled off. Coupled with their love of opera, it explains why they always act so expressively._

_And yes, I'm trying to use less foreign words, simply because it was getting annoying for me to keep switching back and forth between two languages. The new word in this chapter is __**zio**__, which is Italian for uncle. _

_**cross-over-lover232**__: I don't know, what do you think? ;) And I'm a big fan of TCA as well; I really enjoyed Children of the Nations. I'm still waiting for the chapter where Germany meets up with Markus, now that would be a BLAST. And here's your internet cookie._

_**Marine_is_hope2**__: Well, crap just hit the roof for him, that's for sure. But when things hit rock bottom, there's no place else to go but up, right? And I'm sorry about Prussia, but it's necessary for Germany's own character development that his brother's taken out of the picture. Don't worry though, Prussia's presence will still be felt in the fic, even though he's not there in person. And yes, Germany is bad with kids. He's bad with people in general, actually. A great example would be the episode in Hetalia when he visited Italy and scared Romano half to death. And don't worry about not reviewing, even if I get no reviews, I'll keep updating this fic! Although I still prefer reviews, of course. And here's your internet cookie as well._

_Please remember to read and review this chapter! I'm trying my best to write better, so let me know if you've got a beef with anything._

_In the next chapter, we'll get to see the whole of Romano's reaction to the big news as well as his extensive colourful vocabulary, more of Marianne, and a return to everyone's favourite Oyabun. There's also a poll on my profile, where you guys can take a shot as to who's the next Nation who's going to get a kid. Each Nation only has one kid, so I'll be taking Feli, Ludwig and Francis off the list. Happy guessing! _


	7. Chapter 7: Love in different ways

_Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia._

* * *

**Chapter 7: Love in different ways.**

* * *

"_**MADONNA**_**, you did WHAT!**"

Feli immediately jerked backwards when his brother exploded, only to topple over, chair and all. However, barely five seconds later, his brother had already grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him upwards angrily. His golden eyes burned with fury as his mouth twisted into an angry snarl. Raising his hand, he gave his brother a tight slap across the face.

"Feliciano Vargas, you fool!"

SMACK.

"WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING! God damn you and your romances, are you that stupid!" Feli didn't dare raise his eyes to his brother's. He quivered as his brother continued to yell and slap him, but he didn't fight back. The fact remained that Lovino was right. He wasn't supposed to have touched her in such sinful ways.

"You sinned against God and you broke one of the rules of Nationhood!" Romano spat out angrily. "How could you do this, you, you, you...you FOOL!" His brother pushed him backwards roughly. Feli let out a cry of pain as he slammed back onto the floor, but he suddenly remembered that tonight, it wasn't just the two brothers in the house. Panic flooded him immediately. "_Fr-fratello_!" he croaked out. "Pl-please, don't yell! There's-"

"Don't you dare tell me what to do, Italy Veneciano!" Romano shrieked back. "Not when you've...you've...oh _Madonna_, stop me before I kill him!" Furious, he kicked the chair in front of him. It clattered to the ground as one leg flew off. Stalking over to his brother, he yanked him close and glared at him.

"Veneciano, tell me that it was just once. Just once," he hissed. "Tell me that you did nothing else with her, or I swear I may have no choice but to murder you myself and throw your body in the Sicilian Sea. Do you have any idea what you have done!"

The younger brother choked back his sobs and tried to speak, but Lovino just swore and threw him back on the ground.

"_Che palle_!"

Feliciano bit his tongue and his eyes flicked between his brother and the door to his room, which also happened to be open a fragment...

His heart nearly stopped in his chest.

[_Lucia!_]

"_Fratello_, please stop and listen to me!" he pleaded desperately. "I-"

"What!" his brother snarled. "Did you touch all your other girlfriends as well? Is this how you break up with all of them?"

"No, but-"

"Shut UP!"

Lovino marched over and raised his hand, intending to smack his brother's head again, when suddenly the door to the right burst open. A tiny figure dashed across the floor and planted herself between both brothers. Hands outstretched, shaking, her eyes red from crying and her own lips quivering.

"Please stop! Family shouldn't fight!"

It was as if time itself had frozen.

Lovino stared at the small girl in front of him. There were tears flowing down her face, and her body shuddered with sobs. But her hair, her eyes, her face...

It couldn't be.

"_Lovi, today I have something important to tell you, so please listen, alright?_"

This wasn't possible.

"_And that's how babies are born! Ah ha ha Lovi, your face is so red, like a tomato!"_

Their kind didn't have children, right?

"_Nobody knows for sure Lovi. Don't worry though, you're my one and only little tomatito. I'll never replace you._"

But there she was, standing in front of him.

He felt as if the floor underneath him gave way.

He barely registered it as his body moved without even him thinking. Kneeling on the ground so as to be on eye level with her, he said softly, "_Bambina_, why are you up this late? Don't you know that good girls go to bed by 9?" His hand reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She flinched at his touch, but she did not move away from him. Swallowing, he continued on. "Did I wake you? I'm sorry if I did _bambina_. What is your name?"

"Lu-Lucia, _zio_," she stammered. Lovino felt his head spin.

She called him _zio_.

He felt overwhelmed by emotion. His mouth opened and closed wordlessly, and he was truly at a lost at what to even do now. His hand strayed down from her ear to rest on her cheek. She was terrified of him, that he could see.

A gentle hand touched his shoulder.

Lovino glanced up at his brother's slightly bruised, but smiling face. And then the guilt slammed into him like a truck into a brick wall. How loud had he been screaming his head off? How much did she see? Did she hear everything?

"_Fratello_, I think I should take Lucia to her bed. Is that ok?" Feli asked.

He nodded silently. He needed time to think. As his younger brother took her hand and lead her back into the room, she peeked back at him. "_Buono notte_ _zio_," she whispered. He barely managed to answer her himself, before the door shut in front of him.

Lovino moved mechanically. He straightened himself up from the floor and grabbed the fallen chair. Dragging it to the side, he went back to the table and sat himself down on the other chair. Picking up a fork, he twirled the spaghetti around it, before he put it into his mouth.

It was cold. Just like how he felt now.

Feliciano dabbed Lucia's face with the wet handkerchief, washing the tear tracks off. "Lucia, why haven't you gone to bed yet?" he asked, trying his best to be cheerful for her. "If you don't get your sleep, how are you going to stay awake tomorrow?" They were both seated on the bed, the quilt all tucked around the small girl. The room they were in was small and simple but cosy. The walls were painted a light red, and through the window one could see the streets of Rome below and the starry night above. It was actually Feli's; whenever he came to visit Lovino in their capital city, he would stay here. But for tonight, it would belong to his daughter.

His daughter.

Part of him wanted to sing to the stars about how happy he was. Feli had always liked children and enjoyed spending time with them. The fact that he now had a child of his own, to care for and to love, was something that he regarded as a blessing from God himself.

But the other part of him knew that Lucia's presence had just thrown the both of them into serious trouble. Austria had lectured him long and proper when he had come of age about such issues, threatening all sorts of dire punishment if Feli so much as laid a finger on a woman's bare skin. Technically, Nations weren't even supposed to be capable of having children, not even with each other. So how was he going to explain that he had a miniature version of himself?

And then there was Romano...

Feli wasn't surprised his brother had thrown such a fit. They were both Catholics. They said their prayers. They read the Holy Book. They sang the hymns. They went to mass. And although Lovi could string curses in nearly every single South Italian dialect, dealt with the mafia, and insulted/assaulted Germany on a nearly monthly basis, he was also very religious. He never missed Sunday service, not even during emergencies, and he visited his confessor on a weekly basis. And Feli was the same. He could not imagine, nor remember a time when he slipped in his spiritual practises.

Except that one night when he laid with a woman he was not married with.

A sniff escaped from Lucia, bringing him out of his thoughts. Concerned, Feli put the handkerchief aside. "What's wrong, Lucia?" The brunette rubbed her eyes with one hand and hugged her wolf doll tighter with the other one. "_Zio_ doesn't like me, does he?" she whimpered. The question threw Feliciano off. Quickly, he pulled her into another hug.

"Of course he does. He's just a little angry that I didn't tell him earlier, that's all." The explanation was the closest Feli could give to the truth. She wouldn't understand if he tried to tell her. Not yet, anyway.

Lucia was far from comforted though. "But...he was so angry with you. He was hitting you." Feli felt sorry for her to have witnessed such a scene. It wasn't the first impression he was hoping she'd get of the two Italian brothers together. He fondly patted her on the head. "Your _zio_ does not hate you, _bambina_. He was just mad at me."

"Because you became my new _padre_?"

"Ah...no, it's not about that. Trust me, alright?" He laid her back on the bed and tucked the edges of the quilt around her. "I have to go and explain things better to him now, so you be a good girl and go to bed, alright? Have you said your prayers?" Lucia nodded. Feli beamed at her and stroked her fringe lovingly. "That's my girl," he whispered. As he was about to slide off the bed though, she quickly grabbed his sleeve.

"_Padre_? Will...will you sing me to sleep first? My...my _papa _used to sing to me, when I couldn't sleep."

Feli felt a twinge of jealousy in his heart. She called him _padre_, but she called the other man _papa_. "My _papa_", to be exact.

It hurt that she cared more about him than her real father.

Quickly he swallowed those envious feelings and replied, "Of course _bambina_. Anything for you. Is there any song you want?"

"Santa Lucia, please."

A Neapolitan song. Feli really could feel the salt that was being rubbed into the wounds in his heart. Nevertheless, if that's what made Lucia happy, he'd sing it for her.

Feli knelt by her bedside and started to sing softly, one hand holding hers, the other patting her on the head soothingly.

"_Sul mare luccica l'astro d'argento._

_Placida è l'onda, prospero è il vento._

_Sul mare luccica l'astro d'argento._

_Placida è l'onda, prospero è il vento._

_Venite all'agile barchetta mia,_

_Santa Lucia! Santa Lucia!_

_Venite all'agile barchetta mia,_

_Santa Lucia! Santa Lucia!_"

By the end of the song, Lucia's eyes were already shut. Feli kissed her on her forehead and switched off the lights before he left the room. His brother was still at the table, eating pasta. At the sound of the door shutting, his eyes snapped upwards and met Feli's. Neither brother said anything. Feli just picked up another chair from a different room and brought it into the dining room. Seating opposite his brother, he kept silent as his brother ate.

Finally, Lovino broke the tense silence between them.

"Feliciano, what are you going to do with her?"

"I'm taking her back with me to Venice. She's going to be living with me."

"Hmph. Do you really think you can take care of her? Don't be an idiot, stupid _fratello_. You're a fucking Nation. You've got important stuff to do. You might not have enough time for her."

"I don't want to abandon her, _fratello_. I already did for eight years."

"Hmph. Whatever then. It's your decision. Just make sure you don't mess up."

The silence returned with a vengeance. Feli felt uncomfortable. Was that it? A few more seconds passed, and Feli gave up. Timidly, he approached his brother.

"Umm..._fratello_?"

"Hm?"

"Are you still...angry at me?"

The fork speared through a meatball viciously and chipped the plate underneath. Feli winced and waited for the next bombardment to begin, but to his surprise his brother just popped the meat into his mouth, chewed and then swallowed. Romano reached for the napkin to the side and wiped his mouth before he replied.

"Duh. But I'm not going to yell at you tonight. Maybe next week. Or next month. Whichever's more convenient for me."

Feli couldn't believe his luck. His brother wasn't going to shout at him? Silently, Feli thanked the saints in Heaven for preserving him.

Lovino shifted the chair back and stood up. Picking up the dirty plates and utensils, he headed over to the sink, calling behind his back as he walked off.

"You should go to bed Feliciano. It's late. I'll clean up. You can take my bed tonight, I'll join you later."

About to protest, Feli shut his mouth promptly when Lovino shot him a glare which clearly said "Take it, or else."

"Just go already, ok?"

"Umm...ok. I'll see you in the morning then."

"Hmph. Good night, my stupid _fratello_."

Feliciano took off his shirt in his brother's room, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His brother hadn't said it out aloud, but Feliciano knew the hidden message behind the conversation they just had.

"_I don't hate her, but please take good care of her. And...I'm sorry for getting so mad at you. I shouldn't have hit you. I'm still angry, but I don't hate you. I'll get over it. We'll talk more tomorrow, ok?_"

His brother had always preferred actions to words. Giving up his bed, letting him off the hook, and showing concern for Lucia's well-being all signified that Lovino wasn't going to discriminate against the two of them and that he was trying to make amends for his outburst.

As he slipped into the bed, he caught the scent of sun-dried tomatoes. He smiled and whispered,

"_Buono Notte, fratello. Ti amore._"

Shutting his eyes, he pretended not to notice the shadow at the doorway and the almost unheard reply of "_Ti amore, fratello_".

* * *

"AH CHOO!"

Antonio sneezed hard and groped for the tissue box near his bedside. Weakly, he blew his nose before he collapsed face forward on the bed yet again. He placed one hand against his forehead and tried his best to relax, but it was no good. The flu really had him hammered and completely gone. His eyes ached, his nose ran, and his fever had yet to abate. He must've killed an entire Amazon forest by now, what with the amount of tissue boxes he had gone through.

A knock on the door roused him from his hazy fever. He peered blearily at the door, curious. [_That's strange...I wasn't expecting any company..._] he thought, confused. ""_Entra... por favor..."_

The door swung open to reveal a young blonde woman, dressed in a simple blue dress and carrying a tea tray. Antonio felt his heart lighten up. "_Buenas tardes_, Bélgi," he greeted cheerfully, or as cheerfully as one might when sick. "What can I do f...fo...for...AH CHOO!"

Belgium shook her head exasperatedly. "Antonio, the question should be what you are doing up this late!" She balanced the tray on one hand, using the other to shut the door. "Are you working again? You're supposed to leave that to me!" Antonio put up his hand in surrender. "_Lo siento _Bélgi, please don't get mad. I just don't want you to devote too much of your time helping me, that's all. You barely missed the bug yourself. I don't want you to catch it."

She sighed and placed the tray on the nearby table. "I'm fine Antonio, I've told you that France is helping me out with already." Pouring him a cup of tea, she added the milk and passed the cup to him. "Abel and Laura are also increasing their imports from me, so the chances of me getting a cold are pretty low already."

Spain sat upright on his bed and accepted the cup with a smile. "_Gracias_, Bélgi. What would I do without you?" He sipped some of the hot tea and hummed with pleasure at the taste. "Wow, _¡esto es delicioso! _I lovethe way you make tea, it always makes me feel better," he told her cheerfully.

The homely woman smiled and stacked all the documents on the table carefully. "I'm glad that it helps," she replied. "A lot of people are counting on you recovering Antonio, so you have to get better soon, ok?" Placing the papers at a corner, Belgium returned her attention back to Spain and picked up the bowl of soup. "Now, open wide!"

"Bélgi, I'm not a kid!" Spain protested. "I can eat my-umph!" Unperturbed, Belgium took her chance when he was talking and stuffed the spoon into Spain's mouth. "The last time I brought you soup, you were too busy going through your boss's notes that you left it for too long till it became cold," she scolded. "How do you expect to get any better unless you have some hot food in you?"

Spain swallowed the warm creamy soup and grinned sheepishly. "I know, I know. I promise that I won't leave my food out like that ever again. Cross my heart, Bélgi. So you can put the spoon down now, please?"

She raised an eyebrow with mock seriousness as her ex-boss made big pleading puppy eyes, before a giggle escaped her. "OK Antonio. As long as you keep your promise," she replied. She placed the bowl in his hands and sat down on the bed quietly as he slurped his soup down. The two of them sat next to each other, neither saying a word, but content to be in each other's presence. "Just like the old days," thought Alice fondly. Though she didn't say it out aloud, sometimes she missed the times when she stayed at Spain's house. True, she had been nothing but a servant there, but she had food, she had a roof over her head and a bed to sleep in, and she had Spain.

Antonio.

The tan man finished off the last bit of his soup and sighed contently. "Thank you so much Bélgi. I really don't know what would happen to me if you weren't here."

"Well, now that I am here though, I know what's next on the agenda." She plucked the bowl from Spain's hands before he could utter a single word. "You're heading straight off to bed!"

Ignoring his stammering protests, she took out his pyjamas and held them out. "Go on, put them on. Unless...," she grinned mischievously, "...you want me to do it for you?"

Spain flushed a deep red and quickly took the clothes from her. Alice giggled. Just like his henchman, her boss was so uncomfortable about being naked around women. It was just too cute!

Alice picked up the tray and headed for the door. "Make sure that you go to bed, alright? I'll be checking again in ten minutes so you better be tucked in by then." Spain was half-nodding, half-yawning when she closed the door, but he managed to call out to her before she shut it. "_B-buenas noches_, Bélgi. Thanks for being such a great friend to me."

Alice stopped at the doorway and smiled back at Spain. "Good night to you too Antonio." With that, she shut the door behind her and headed down the staircase. However, with each step, the smile on her face seemed to grow sadder and sadder.

_Thanks for being such a great friend to me_.

[_Oh Antonio. Just call me Alice. Just once._]

* * *

_Yes I support SpaBel. Go Belgium!_

_*gets shot by Spamano fans*_

_I'm sorry, it's just that I find Spamano too disturbing. It's akin to USUK, which to me seems pretty incestuous. If there has to be slash, I'd prefer the Hapsburg pairing (Spain X Austria). I love how Spain, Belgium and Romano are the alternate version of Austria, Hungary and Veneciano. Hence why I want to see the two of them together. Go Spabel!_

_Why I wrote Romano this way: The Vatican City IS in Rome. It's hard for me to not make him a devout Catholic. Same thing applies to Veneciano, and that's why I made them both over-react so much. I am pretty firm on the "no sex before marriage" deal as well, simply because I do see it as a special union between man and woman that should only be shared between husband and wife. PLEASE don't take Lovino's exaggerated explosion as something all Christians would do._

_Special thanks to Pixelmicrocat for doing the Spanish for me! I'm also looking for people who know French and German to help me out, so if you know those languages, pop me a message please!_

_Translations:_

_Entra... por favor...: _Come in...please...

_Buenas tardes: _Good evening

_Lo siento_: I'm sorry

_Gracias_: Thank you

_¡esto es delicioso: _This is delicious!

_B-buenas noches_: G-good night

_Spain calls Belgium "Bélgi" solely as a nickname. I know Belgium is something else in Spanish, but I just adore the way Go Inoue says it in the anime series, so I popped that in here._

_Abel and Laura are, respectively, Netherlands and Luxembourg. _


End file.
